put one finger in the air

Unabridged list of things that make Viktor’s heart clench about Yuuri Katsuki:

  • When he reaches back, half-asleep, to find Viktor’s arm and put it around his waist when he’s cold at night
  • When Viktor comes in the door as Yuuri is making a sandwich and Yuuri asks, “Do you want one too?” as he’s licking mayo off his thumb.
    • How, if Viktor says yes, he’ll give Viktor the already-made sandwich and start making another for himself.
  • The handkerchiefs Yuuri uses to hold his hair back when he’s cleaning or cooking
  • The little boredom ticks that he has–like twirling a pencil between his fingers, or folding a piece of paper as small as he an get it.
  • The way he’ll sometimes just. Put his leggy up in the air. Like he’s stretching and he just forgets it’s up there.
  • How he would rather spent half a minute trying to work his shoe onto his foot without bending over, rather than taking five seconds to reach down and pull it properly onto his foot.
  • The ‘Potty song’ he sings to Makkachin, which is essentially just, “Please poop now, I’m cold and I want to go inside,” sung over and over in Japanese to a vague tune.
  • How he sometimes puts his hand in Viktor’s back pocket when they’re walking together.
  • The way he’ll come find Viktor halfway across the house with a spoonful of something for Viktor to taste, instead of just asking him to come into the kitchen. 
  • Viktor is one of only three people Yuuri has friended on snapchat and he almost exclusively uses it to send Viktor pictures of cute dogs and weird signs.
  • When he tries to “skate” across the hardwood in socks.
  • How he pulls Viktor’s hand into his pocket to hold it on cold days.
  • His “crab impersonation” which is just him tapping two pairs of chopsticks together and walking in a circle with his feet turned out. Viktor almost threw up from laughter the first time Yuuri did it.
  • The fact that Yuuri is part of his life, and he gets to be reminded in a million little ways every day that he now has someone to share everything with.
Meditate your ass off

What is meditation basically? Lots of people will tell you that meditation is supposed to calm your mind. 

But what will really meditation do to you is that you’ll be able to CONTROL your mind. Or at least you’ll be better at it, which is something huge, believe me. And controlled mind is a big tool in magic work.

There are 3 basic types of meditation.

1. Just observe your mind. This is something that you can do when you have time. Sit on your couch, lie on your bed - whatever feels good for you - that’s the key. Close your eyes and just try to observe what’s your mind up to. The important thing is - don’t try to think. Just let your mind exist. It almost feels like falling asleep, actually. Once you try it you can feel how freeing that moment is. 

2. Be aware. Yes, awareness of your body and later, of what is happening around you. For example, try to be aware of your breathing. Focus on how you breathe. Just feel how your nostrils feel the air coming in and out. Tap on your forehead with your finger and feel the spot. Be aware of the sensation. Focus on it like nothing else exist. Just the sensation you feel on your skin. 

3. Focus on one thing and one thing only with your mind. As I always say, start with something easy like an orange. Orange is easy to imagine in your mind. Picture its structure. Picture its taste on your tongue. Picture how it feels when you touch it. Basically, put together a picture of everything you know about the orange and keep mind picturing it. Feel the orange for as long as possible. If you lose your concentration, it’s alright and you did nothing wrong - we’re humans, not robots. Just try again :)

Questions you may ask:

Q: What if I don’t have time for meditation? I’m busy with school and work! 

A: Well, of course we live in a world that needs our presence. And number 2 and 3 can be done while you wait for the bus, while you’re stuck in traffic jam, and so on. Don’t lose hope, just because you’re busy :)

Q: Is it really necessary to meditate? 

A: Nothing is necessary, it’s your choice. But the truth is, if you choose to meditate, you’ll be able to control your mind better and it’s not only helpful in magic work. It can help you if you have trouble sleeping and so on. Helps with anxiety, too, btw. 

Q: How does meditation help control mind?

A: Number 1 can teach you: 

- how to be aware of what’s going on in your mind on the level you can’t reach yet. Later, you can use this new entry to your mind and analyze your psyche better. 

- how to not fall asleep when you try astral traveling before going to bed.

- lucid dreaming :)

  Number 2 can teach you:

- how to be aware of what your body wants and needs even though it can’t speak.

- how to be aware of what is happening around you in a crowd - kind of good skill to have these days, sadly.

- how to feel if something paranormal is happening around you.

  Number 3 can teach you:

- how to use your willpower as a tool for your magic work.

- power of good imagination raises IQ and plain common sense. 


Remember that if something isn’t going well for the first time you try, it doesn’t mean it’ll be like this forever. Things can better with practice. So don’t worry. We were all lame shits when we started. 

Enjoy :)

silent / action starters
  • “*ruffles your hair*”
  • “*finger guns*”
  • “*looks through your stuff*”
  • “*runs into at full speed*”
  • “*kisses your cheek*”
  • “*kicks*”
  • “*pulls on ski mask*”
  • “*licks lips*”
  • “*leaps into your arms*”
  • “*wiggles eyebrows*”
  • “*drags you away by the arm*”
  • “*rolls eyes*”
  • “*gives you the middle finger*”
  • “*pokes*”
  • “*begins to tap dance*”
  • “*eats a sandwich*”
  • “*puts hands on hips*”
  • “*gives thumbs up*”
  • “*blows you a kiss*”
  • “*punches your arm*”
  • “*cracks knuckles*”
  • “*starts rubbing your shoulders*”
  • “*takes shirt off*”
  • “*looks at disapprovingly*”
  • “*wipes tear away*”
  • “*taps foot*”
  • “*gestures to come closer*”
  • “*blows balloon*”
  • “*gets down on one knee*”
  • “*tackles you to the ground*”
  • “*lights candle*”
  • “*throws ball*”
  • “*makes a heart with hands*”
  • “*smirks*”
  • “*gives thumbs down*”
  • “*lifts you into the air*”
  • “*blows nose*”
  • “*paints your nails*”
  • “*puts head on your shoulder*”
  • “*trips you*”
  • “*sticks tongue out at*”
  • “*chokes on own spit*”
  • “*flexes*”
  • “*locks door*”
  • “*glares at*”
  • “*holds your hand*”
  • “*pinches*”
  • “*waves at*”
PULP FICTION 📖 [ACT 1]

PAIRING: steve harrington x reader, billy hargrove x reader

summary: nancy breaks up with steve and he is a bit of a mess when you find him. being the new girl in hawkins you try to befriend and keep nancy off his mind. it backfires and now you have him falling in love with you, as you fight off the urge to fall in love with him, too. [THIS IS AN AU!]

warnings: swearing, sexual situations, violence

a/n: quentin tarantino is my favorite director and i really love old movies. so here’s this. lot’s of music in here. also, nothing too major happens now. just two characters meet. this is possibly the maybe first time i have such an independant/strong reader

if you like my stuff and want to support me, don’t forget to treat me to a KO-FI!

MASTERLIST.

[ACT 2.]

music.

“Hey, sorry to bother you. I wouldn’t be if… if you didn’t look like you could use some company.”

Your statement is met with silence as the unfamiliar guy in front of you lifts his eyes up to stare at you in bewilderment. Late autumn wind blows past and ruins your neat hairdo. Your hand grips the strap of your purse; you note tears glisten in his deep brown eyes and decide to look away so he’d have enough time to collect himself. The guy sniffles, rubs his eyes before giving you a tight smile; He opens his mouth to possibly dismiss you, but you beat him to it, “There’s no shame in crying. If you’re sad, you’re sad, right? Nothing you can do about it.” He sighs, “May I sit?” You inquire. After a moment of consideration, he gives a curt nod. And so you do.

Keep reading

Captain Finstock is furious.

“Great job, you bunch of morons! Got yourself into a hostage situation, almost got half of the team killed, and now we have to babysit a pack of FBI agents because you are so damn incompetent! And no, Hale, you do not get to opt out of this bullshit because a fed stole your beanie! In fact, I’mma pair you up with him, what was his name, Bilinski? Yes, the doe-eyed one. How old is he anyway, do they hire kids right out of kindergarten now? God, I don’t have enough booze to cover this shit. Could be better off coaching teenagers in a high school probably. Now, get out of my office!”

What a way to start a Monday.

**

“I didn’t know a beanie and a hoodie are new FBI style,” Derek all but seethes.  

“Says a detective wearing his own initial on his belt.”

Derek follows Stilinski’s gaze to his crotch and blushes, “That’s not … that’s not for “Hale”, it’s for “Hermes”.

“Oh, an officer who knows couture? I’m impressed!“ And then the bastard winks.

Derek mentally punches a wall.

**

In theory, having a team of FBI agents helping you with a case can be a good thing, because, well, they have more resources, and a much larger database, and cooler toys. On practice though, it is a giant pain in the ass, mainly because Derek hates his new partner.

Well, no, Derek doesn’t hate him, it’s Derek’s balls that hate him. The brat (what kind of a name is Stiles Stilinski anyway?) is not just cute and smart and knows how to make killer lattes, he is also obnoxious and flirts with Derek all the time, and has an obscene mouth and fingers Derek can’t even look at, because those long dexterous fingers do things to Derek, and at this point Derek’s balls are not just blue, they are pitch black and about to fall off.

Derek might have ripped several bedsheets with his erection and may or may not have considered billing Stilinski for them.

He decides against it, and instead chooses to channel his frustration into anger and into being a dick.

That doesn’t help.

In fact, it just makes things worse. The more frustrated and angry Derek gets, the flirtier Stiles becomes. It’s ridiculous, like trying to put out a fire by throwing gasoline at it.

Finally, frustration boils over and Derek all but slams the younger man into a wall while no one’s looking. He gets into Stiles’s face, pointing an accusational finger at him like a gun, and tells him all he thinks about flowers, handcuff hearts, chocolates, winks, air kisses and all other crap Stilinski has been pulling on him since day one. He has enough, he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t want it, and …

Derek is surprised to see how hurt Stiles looks. He expects anything from a sucker punch to a fist to his face, but Stiles just whispers liar and leaves.

Derek would’ve preferred a sucker punch.

**

I’m such an idiot!

Derek cusses himself while camaro slithers through empty streets. What a shitty detective is he if he can’t recognize a genuine crush over a prank? Worse even, Stiles is right- he is a liar. He should be sucking Stiles off right now instead of going back to an empty loft.

His self-loathing is cut short by a truck ramming into his side.

**

Derek loses track of time after about a week. After all, it is hard to tell day from night when you are lying semi-conscious in a windowless basement.

Well, if it is how Derek goes out, so be it, he can’t cheat death forever. He wishes he could cheat it long enough to tell Stiles he likes him though. May be even loves him. But, with Hale luck ™ , he likely won’t even have a chance to say good bye.

He hears his captors chatting near the cell, clanking tools. Oh, another round of torture, how terrific.

And then something goes wrong, there are screams and shouting and gunfire and the cell door busts open and it’s actually Stiles, his Stiles, hair disheveled, with stubble and dark circles under his eyes, and he looks livid.  Derek tries to scream, to warn Stiles one of the terrorists is launching at him from behind but Stiles just grabs the man and breaks his neck without even looking because his eyes never leave Derek’s face.

Derek would probably coming all over himself now if not for the extensive blood loss.

**

Stiles drags him out through fire and dead bodies and drops him into an ambulance before Derek gets a chance to say thank you.

**

When Derek comes back, things are different. Stiles is still friendly and cooperative but now he is, for a lack of a better word, professional. No winks, no kissy faces, no more trying to sit on Derek’s lap – only business. Basically, this is everything Derek had asked for.

And Derek wants to scream.

When Captain Finstock calls him to his office and tells him, “I don’t know what the hell you did, Hale, but you better fix it soon, because your lovers spat is freaking me out”,  Derek realizes how royally he screwed up.

**

It takes a mind of a genius and a healthy dose of gay juju to properly apologize to Stiles, and Derek now owes a case of champagne to Dr. Martin and a new Prada wallet to Danny from cyber crime, but sleepy warm Stiles is cuddling him in his bed, so all of that was totally worth it.

Stiles nuzzles Derek’s neck and mumbles, “I can hear you thinking.”

Derek smiles, kisses him and goes back to sleep.

ao3 link


Yuuri is in the kitchen when he hears Victor call it out in question. They had just finished up supper and Victor had cooked so Yuuri was in the kitchen washing up the dishes to return the favor. And he’s just standing by the dishwasher, humming idly and wondering if Victor has picked out a movie for them to watch or if tonight is going to be a night where they watch game shows featuring Victor yelling out the answers that can actually be correct on occasion. It had been a long day at the rink and Yuuri even wonders if maybe they’ll have a nice glass of wine before bed.

So, Yuuri is just minding his own business, not thinking twice when Victor calls out his name. He hums back, expecting a question or statement about leftovers but then…

“What’s yaoi?”

Keep reading

Hang on To That Feeling

MASTERLIST

A/N: This is a planned post. I’m going to put a trigger warning on this just in case. This one is a bit different, so feedback would be lovely. 

Word count: 3,278

Originally posted by your-local-killjoy


”Hey Brian, I don’t have much time. What is it?” I asked, struggling holding the phone to my ear using only my left shoulder. 

My fingers moved across the keyboard on the computer without my eyes gazing down once as I continued to type. 

Multitasking had never been my thing and talking on the phone while typing in corrections for the next meeting at work, wasn’t really working out for me. 

“It’s Shawn” he stuttered and then the air in my lungs what punched out entirely. 

Keep reading

Special (Pennywise x Reader)

A/N:  DADDY KINK, don’t read if you don’t like. [Do read if you do like.] Written so reader can be any afab person in terms of physiology, hopefully free of any dysphoric language for trans dude readers too! If I fucked up on that, message me please! Reader is college-age in case it wasn’t apparent.

“Come.”
You hear the voice before you see its source, but you know. You’d ignored it when it was a hush under the city din, scoffed at the balloon you saw tied to the sapling in the back-yard before closing the blinds, but it was less patient this time. This was not a whisper, and this was not a balloon.
“Come.” Louder—to your right. You snap your head to meet the voice, and the air leaves your lungs as a figure sitting on the couch comes into focus.
“You’ve been very brave, little one. Positively courageous, I must say. Smells rancid.” The grin drops from his face, the eyes seem to bore into yours.
“I—I didn’t think…”
“Didn’t think that Pennywise would find you? Didn’t think the scent carried all the way home from the store when you bought those yesterday, fingers trembling as you put them up?” He laughs, glancing to the door, on which sit freshly installed sliding locks, still tightly latched.
“What d-do you want?”
Another laugh.
“Oh, precious thing, I think you know full-well.” His smile widens, revealing a set of pointed teeth.
“If it makes you feel any better, your fear has been so delicate, so delectable.
“Come.” He repeats. “Come sit on my lap. If you run, I promise you will meet your end in slow, twisting agony.” The smile hasn’t left his lips.
You step tentatively towards the clown, knowing that he almost surely means what he says. How many silly online threads you’ve read—you’ve written—about wanting to be in this position, and yet his presence is so thoroughly daunting, you don’t have attention to spare for thoughts of lust.
You cautiously begin to lower yourself onto his thighs, when you feel the skintight-gloved hands curl around your wrists.
“Ah, ah, turn to face Pennywise, please. I do very much love to see my food properly.”
You turn around to awkwardly straddle the clown’s hips, heartbeat pounding in your ears.
“Now now, it’s not all bad. I’ve seen the things you’ve read, the things you’ve done.” You freeze at these words, mouth barely open, failed for words entirely. He tauntingly bats his eyelashes, face inches away from yours; you notice the cracks in the makeup across his face, the vibrancy of the red lines screaming from his eyes to the corners of his lips.
“Before I was real for you, when it was all a game. Do you think your cries went unheard, stifled into pillows and your precious little palm? Pennywise, Pennywise” He rolls his eyes to the back of his head in a gleeful, feigned orgasm. He’s drooling incessantly now, wetting your arms and laps as he nears closer to you, but it’s hardly of any concern. The gloves are still tightly wrapped around your arms, you’re acutely aware that your ass is pressed up against his lap.
He laughs again, cold and malicious. Before you’ve processed the distance closing between you, he presses his wet, plush lips onto yours, catching you off-guard in a slobbering, hungry kiss. You moan in realization, leaning into it, bucking your hips against his lap encouragingly. He forces your wrists together behind your back, shifting to hold them both with one hand. His tongue snakes between your lips, roughly dipping around your mouth, quickly coating your chin in his drool. You moan into his mouth, struggling against the vice-grip he has on your hands, shifting against the now-evident bulge between his legs. He breaks the kiss, but remains pressed to your face, eyes gleaming with taunting, lustful malice.
“Does the little one like it? Tell me you like it, or you won’t. Get. Any. More.” He emphasizes each word with a buck of his hips, pulling your arms back and your body down to grind against his movements.
“I do, I like it. Please…”
He growls affirmatively, drawing his hands up to your waistline, pulling your shirt up, haphazardly tugging it over your shoulders and onto the floor. He surveys the sight of you, shirtless and whining on his lap; his eyes glow murderously bright. He grabs onto your wrists, tugging them into his control behind your back again, gliding a hand up across your chest and collarbones as he juts his erection toward you through your clothes. He leans in, licking up and down your neck—and bites down, just hard enough to break skin. The pain, the pleasure, it’s almost unbearable–
“Ahh, Daddy…”
You didn’t mean to. It just slipped out. He laps slowly at the wound, then raises his head to meet you, your cheeks flushed bright pink.
“Daddy?”
“I—I…”
“Is that what you like, then? Disgusting little thing.” His erection throbs beneath you as he speaks.
“Like to sit on Daddy’s lap and get fucked? Awful little slut.”
His eyes are closed, his grip tightens on your arm, bringing his free hand to slap your ass¬¬. It stings, the glove does little to soften the impact.
“Say it again.” You don’t hesitate.
“Yes, Daddy,” it’s more of a whine. Pennywise lets out a shudder, stealing your lips in another messy kiss. His hand smacks against your rear again, your skin still sensitive from the first. You whimper.
He mimics the sound with a delighted snarl, and smacks you again, harder establishing a rhythm with the gentle hip thrusts and unrelenting smacks.

“Little one likes it when Daddy fucking hits them? Depraved, dirty thing. Does it turn you on to think of how many lives Daddy’s taken with his hands as they touch you wherever he wants, I wonder?”
You close your eyes, grinding down on his lap. How does he know—or was it a lucky guess? Regardless, your turned head tells him more than enough, and his smile turns viciously, inhumanly wide.
“I’ve killed them, you know? All of the little boys and girls who came too close. But not you—you know why? Because you’re the special filthy little one that I like. Getting off on how Daddy sinks his teeth into their flesh, digs for blood in their bodies until there’s none left? That’s what makes you want my fingers all over you, hmm?”
He brings both hands around to grip you by the waist, effortlessly raising you up like a rag-doll and pushing you down onto the couch beside him. Not bothering with superfluity, he turns you down onto your stomach and pulls your pants to your ankles, gracelessly tugging them off with your shoes.
“Mmh, so good for your Daddy. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He growls, placing one hand on your back to pin you down, the other guiding your hips to him. You feel his knuckles against your sensitive skin as he toys with the zipper of his trousers. You struggle against him, bucking back tauntingly against his hand as it frees his erection. You feel the slick head of his cock pressing into you. He leans forward, stretching you with his uncomfortably large erection, rocking back and forward to get a feel for the motion—then bucks violently forward, filling you up. You exhale hard, rocking into his next few thrusts as best you can, with his hand still pressed firmly into your back. The clown rubs your ass where he’d been striking it, ghosting a gloved palm over the bruising skin.
“Mmh, more,” you can’t help but whine. Pennywise laughs.
“Getting off on pain, naughty naughty.”
He quickens the pace of his thrusts, and brings his hand back down onto your ass, hard, eliciting appreciative moans from you, face still pressed into the couch. Another smack.
“Little—slut—” His breaths get heavier, “Likes to get held down helpless, wants Daddy to cum inside them like a filthy fucking playtoy.”
Tears well at your eyes as he continues, unrelenting. His hand curls to tighten on your hip, you can feel the nails beneath the gloves digging into your skin as he nears release.
“Come with me, little s—lut,” his breath comes in animalistic gasps, his hand drags up your thigh. You feel yourself coming undone.
“Ugh—yes—P-Pennywise, Daddy!” Your release hits you fast, shooting through your stomach and radiating between your thighs.
“Fuck—” He thrusts forward, hard, pulling you into him as he rides out his orgasm. A hot wetness runs down your legs, his voice a low growl as he mutters your name.
After a moment, he releases his grip, pulling himself back and allowing you to fall onto the couch beside him. Anxiously, you turn around to face him, bruised and exhausted, but still full of intrigue. What happens now? Are you going to die, naked and weak? Was that his plan from the start? You dare a glance at his face– he’s fully alert again, but clearly contemplative. Not wanting to interrupt a train of thought, you sit in petrified silence as he looks you over, carefully. After a few eternal minutes, Pennywise speaks—and when he does, his voice is gentle, almost playful.
“Come, little one. It’s evident that you’ll make better company than supper. Follow Daddy back home, and we’ll find somewhere for you to sleep.”
His eyes shine blue and sweet, the dim light of the room glinting off them like hard candy, and he offers the first sweet smile you’ve seen on his face. Whatever’s in store, whatever you’re giving up by coming with him, doesn’t matter.

James March: Overprotective

You’ve been living with James for almost a year now and he’s given you everything you could ask for and more. The best gift that he’s given you is his undying love and loyalty.

But lately you’ve been going a little insane. Although you don’t mind having a few drinks at the Blue Parrot Lounge with your friends, you felt like you needed a night out in the city. Being around new scenery is something that’ll make you oh so happy. But your boyfriend James will never allow it. It comforts him knowing that you’re safe and sound under his very own roof. Whenever you wanted to do a little shopping during the day or wanted to have lunch with your girlfriends, he had no issue with that because in his eyes, daytime in Los Angeles is a lot safer than at night.

You told yourself that today is going to be the day that you stand up and convince your sweetheart, James to let you out. Your girlfriends had their fingers crossed for you, even Liz and Sally do. 

After searching around the hotel for James, you finally found him on Floor 7. You didn’t need a key for the door because it was already wide open. Of course, your boyfriend was playing 1920′s Jazz music. He despised modern day music. But, you do love how old fashioned James is. Especially since you can’t find a lot of men nowadays like that.

James was sitting on the couch, polishing his cane when you found him. “Ah dearest!” He greeted you with a smile, revealing his dimples.

You slowly started getting nervous, knowing you’ll have to ask him the one question that he despises. “Hi James.”

“Come. Sit on my lap.” He patted a hand on his thigh.

“Actually, I didn’t come here to sit. I came here to ask you something.” You started slowly pacing around the room, trying not to make it look noticeable, but you couldn’t help it.

Luckily, James was too focused on polishing his beloved cane that he didn’t notice. “Anything. If it’s money that you need, you know darling, you have the code to my vault.” 

“Yes I know, but it isn’t that. I was kind of hoping, you know-” You paused. “-if you would allow me to go out tonight with my friends?”

James’s mood went from cheerful to displeased. He set his cane to rest against the couch, then walked over to pour himself a drink. He dramatically sighed and you swallowed from nervousness.

You know when James gives you the silent treatment, it’s not a good sign. So you kept your mouth shut, awaiting to hear words form from his mouth. 

“Darling, we have discussed this before. Have we not?” James said while still keeping his back towards you, after finally turning around to face you slowly.

“Y-yes we have. Like I get it, you can’t be there to watch me, but-” You responded, then James cuts you off.

“Indeed. And to your misfortune, my answer is still no.” James objected.

“But that’s not fair. I’m still young. I’m not even 30 yet. I feel like a caged animal.” You whined, standing up to cross your arms in front of you in disagreement.

“Ah yes. And a caged animal that is more than alive and well. Am I correct?” James asked.

No. No is the word you hated hearing the most. You rolled your eyes at James then attempted to storm out of the room, but James catches your wrist. 

“And to where do you think you’re off to?” James asks while tightening his grip on your small wrist.

“Leaving you forever if you don’t let go of me.” You spat, trying to shake off his hand around your wrist, but James’s strength doesn’t allow it. 

James clenched his jaw to help prevent himself from going off on you because of your sudden attitude. “Sit.” He demanded, eyeing you, then eyeing the couch for you to sit on.

“Why?” You scoffed.

“Dearest. Do as I say or else your shopping trips will be no more.”

“Fine.” You said, then James releases his grip from your wrist and you sat on the couch, crossing one leg over the other, eager to hear what he has to say.

“I will allow you this night with your companions.”

Your eyes lit up from excitement and you stood up. This was a first. “What?! Really?!”

“Under these conditions.” James demanded, pointing a finger in the air. 

“Okay?” You narrowed your eyes at James.

“You musn’t be out past 1:00″

“Ugh, 2:00.” You suggested, hoping he would agree. But unfortunately, he didn’t.

“1:30″ James said and you mouthed ‘fine’. “And someone will be present to watch over you.”

“Okay seriously? Who?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“My darling friend, John Lowe.” James smiled at you.

“Great. So John is going to babysit my friends and I.” You didn’t agree to having John watch over you and your friends. But, it’s better than James not allowing you go out at all. So you just let it be, hoping that overtime, James can see that you are able to take care of yourself. Which is when pigs fly.

(Hours Later…)

As much as you wished James could go out with you, you were so excited for tonight. Thankfully, John wasn’t dreading tonight like you thought he would. He told you that he’s looking forward to having a drink or two. Having a designated driver also wouldn’t be necessary because majority of the bars are walking distance.

Once John was out of the shower and in his robe, James, being the ghost that he is, popped up in his hotel room. I guess their friendship is so close that James even does John’s hair.

“John, be sure to keep a close eye on my beloved Y/N.” James stated.

“Of course. You know I will.” John said.

“And if anything is out of line. I insist you bring her back to me.” The concern in James’s voice wasn’t hard to ignore. John nodded his head at James. 

After James was finished on his hair, he left the room to let John change. 


Once you were finished getting ready, you made sure to say goodbye to your lover. You especially made sure to thank him for letting you out tonight by giving him a passionate kiss.

You headed to the lobby only to see that John isn’t in sight, so you assumed he wasn’t ready yet. 

Seeing that Iris is at the front desk, you decided to stand and chat with her while you wait for John.

Minutes later he arrives from the elevator looking a tad bit overdressed. You assumed it was James’s doing.

“Ready to go?” John said once he reached the front desk.

You grabbed your clutch from the counter, holding it down at your side. “Yes, officer.”

“Hey hey. It’s not my fault that your boyfriend is so paranoid and overprotective of you.” John chuckled.

“I know. Well lets make a fun night out of it.” You shrugged. 

Just as the two of you were making your way to walk out. You see James by the railings at the Blue Parrot Lounge watching you with a drink in his hand. “I love you!” You shouted to James, then blew him a kiss. With drink in hand, he bent out that arm to you with a smile. 

I’m Yours (Jason Todd x Reader x Dick Grayson)

Requested: NOPE.

A/N: I’ve been having mixed feelings for both Jason and Dick lately and all I could think about is taking them both….at the same time, so here I am sharing my fantasy with you freaky hoes. You guys should really listen to sexy music while reading this, it helps A LOT! I LOVED WRITING EVERY SINGLE PART OF THIS BTW!!!!

***WARNINGS: SLIGHT HANGOVER. YOU’RE PART OF A THREESOME. SIN SIN SIN WITH A DASH OF MORE SIN. AND DIRTY TALK.****

Words: 2,965

TAGS: @wynterrobin @wannabe-weasley @avengerdragoness @kazuha159 @insideoflit @jxsontxdds @annoyingtacoart  

THIS IS FOR THOSE, WHO LIKE ME, CAN’T PICK BETWEEN JASON AND DICK. SO, I DECIDED TO WRITE TWO DIFFERENT ENDINGS. ONE FOR JASON AND ONE FOR DICK.

ENJOY!

~

The morning light streamed through half-closed blinds. The pounding migraine in your head made you groan loudly. You shifted your naked body under a soft blanket. You turned your head, laying your cheek against a pillow and opened your eyes slightly. You saw Dick’s back, peacefully rising and falling. He was laying on his stomach, his head turned towards the wall, with one arm flung over your waist.

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Pulse Part 8

Part 7

Genre: ANGST
Words: 1,821
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Stalking, injuries, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Summary: Soulmate AU in which one’s heartbeat becomes perfectly in sync with their soulmate’s once they meet.

Originally posted by 0awesome0mix0vol1

There was a sea of people surrounding you. Unfamiliar faces swarmed through your hazy vision and voices were muffled, barely audible at all through the constant ringing in your ears. You couldn’t distinguish anything through your heavy eyes except for the white tiled ceiling above you.

The panicked atmosphere seemed to consume you, muffled voices sounding determined yet rushed. There was a red spot in your vision, no doubt from blood that had gotten into your eye, and it was covering the view from your left side. It was hard to tell what was hurting, your brain only knowing that something everything was.

A bag valve mask was placed over your mouth, attempting to adjust the rate of your breathing. You weren’t sure if it was too rapid or too slow. You couldn’t feel your heartbeat, you couldn’t feel your breathing, you couldn’t feel your own skin. All you could feel was air rush past as each person reached for equipment.

And then a face moved past the red spot in your vision, leaning over you and mouthing something to you with so much resolve, that you couldn’t look away. His eyes pierced into yours, breaking open whatever trance your body was in. You were sent gasping for air through the mask, and your ears opened up to the sound around you.

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Training Session (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (Unprotected Sex)

Request:  Could I ask for a Steve x female reader smut?  Where Steve and reader are training and he ends up pinning her (like he does Bucky in TWS in that scene on the helicarrier.) could you, if it works with the prompt, both like each other but it shows up as some sort of animosity so the team makes them train with a locked-from-the-outside training room? Thanks!!

                 I was wondering if you could do a smut with Steve Rogers.  Working out in the gym, and things get heated? If you could do that I would be very happy.  Thank you!

Requested By: @1eveningstar1 and @wildefire

A/N: I put two requests together seeing as they were pretty similar!  I hope you guys enjoy!

“When’s the last time you trained Y/N?  You used to top Nat in the training room.  Now it’s the other way around” Steve asked taking a large gulp of water; his face drenched in sweat from working out.  

You snapped back rather quickly, “What’s that supposed to mean Rogers?”

Steve gave you a wink which nobody noticed as he headed out of the training room, leaving you there with the other Avengers.  

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4

“Wake up, love.” George spoke softly into your ear as he shook you gently. 

“I don’t want too…” you grumbled, rolling onto your back and lifting yourself into a sitting position. George laid his head on your chest, hugging your waist. Your finger slowly made their ways into his ginger hair. 

“Too bad.” he pressed a kiss to your jaw. “I’ve made your coffee and mum’s made breakfast.” he smiled against your neck, accompanying the cold air of the house in shivers across your skin. He laughed at your sleepy one-eye-open look. 

“Did she put chocolate in the pancakes?” 

“Yes!” he chuckled, growing impatient as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you off the bed. Walking into the dining room, you realized taking George word was a bad idea. Molly hadn’t made breakfast at all. He had made your coffee though and handed you a mug full of it. “Two spoons of sugar, no creme, just how you like it.” he grinned and lead you around the corner into the dining area, stopping before the two of you could enter. You face-planted into his back, some of your precious coffee sloshing onto the floor. He was beaming when he looked back, pressing his finger to his lips as he put his hands on your shoulders to guide you in front of him. 

Ginny and Harry stood near the dining room table… snogging. 

“Morning.” he tried hard not to smile as the two teenagers’ heads snapped away from one another and stood in horror, staring at the two of you. George hid his smirk in a sip of his coffee, which he took with more milk and sugar than actual coffee. 

“George,” you suppressed a giggle. “George, leave them alone!” you smacked his arm. 

“Why should I?” 

“Nobody interrupts you when you’re kissing me.” 

“We’re married!” 

“Oh, George, we stood in the kitchen doing just that long before we were married. Come on!” you try to pull him away from the mortified pair, sending them apologetic looks.

“They’re just having a snog right in the middle of the kitchen! People eat in here, you know!” 

“Carry on.” you blush, pulling your husband from the scene. “As you were, good morning.” you call behind you as you push George with his coffee up the steps. 

-Request-

dabard95  asked:

Imagine Percy has gone off to help some hapless campers once again, and Annabeth isn't too worried because come on, it's PERCY. Then she reaches into her pocket for something, some change or her keys maybe, and instead she pulls out Riptide in its pen form.

Her fingers close around something narrow and smooth, and Annabeth’s heart stutters to a stop in her chest. 

The kids are dancing around her knees, squealing and hitting out at each other, each calling for her attention, and the baby’s balanced on her hip and crying because her favourite pacifier has gone missing and the gods know she won’t accept any replacements. They’re running horrendously late for lunch with Frederick, and it’s pure chaos, but everything slows down as Annabeth pulls her hand out of her pocket and looks down to see the pen. The magical pen that is always meant to find its way back to Percy’s pocket.

But it’s not in Percy’s pocket, it’s in hers, and that means that he’s gone out to help rescue some campers stranded by the Hudson without any weapon.

Oh, shit.

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Seein’ Red

A Demon!Dean x reader / angst, smut

A/N: This is based on a request sent in by @emoryhemsworth and also based on a song by Dustin Lynch with the same name. I love writing Demon!Dean and this came out much angstier (and longer) than I intended, but I hope you guys like it. Please let me know. I thrive on your feedback! ♥

Word Count: 4,829

Warnings:
- language.
- talk of anxiety/panic attacks.
- smut (no one under 18, or I will block you)

Tags: (at the bottom)

*gif is not mine.

“I don’t want you here anymore,” he’d said to you, anger flashing across his emerald eyes. You’d never seen him this mad, and you had no idea what brought on such anger. The next word spat out of his mouth like venom, leaving a wound that still stung to this day. “Leave.”

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What Happens In Vegas...

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, fighting, smut, rough smut, Sub!Dean, Dom!Dean (sorta), Dom!Reader, Sub!Reader, gambling, smut, use of sex toy, smut, oh…did I mention smut?

Word Count: 3819

A/N: This was written for @avasmommy224 birthday smut challenge. My prompt is in bold and please forgive me for this lol I had an idea so out of my comfort zone and ran with it. Please leave feedback! it is welcome and appreciated

There will be a part 2 later today!!!! Maybe even a part 3 in the future!

You love your job, plain and simple. You were probably one of the few people who had the pleasure of saying that but it was true. Sometimes things got a little heated but you were more than equipped to handle just about any situation tossed your way. You had just dealt the halfway mark of the current blackjack game at the casino you worked at. It was a table full of testosterone to say the least. One guy is burly with tattoo sleeves down both arms, definitely someone to steer clear of in any kind of hostile situation, the next is a bit smaller than him and drop-dead gorgeous. He’s slightly built and has the most stunning green eyes you have ever seen and every now and then you catch those eyes travelling up and down your physique; what’s visible due to the waist high blackjack table that is. You catch yourself having to fight a smile back every now and then whenever he looks up at you and sends you a flirty wink or two. Casino rules and expectations can be very tricky and the wrong hand gesture or facial expression can throw up red flags, cheating was severely frowned upon and anyone was a suspect.

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I Said I Loved You

I think it’s best this one doesn’t have a summary… I’m so sorry

Thanks @elsiemcclay for being a great beta, and for thinking up the title because I suck at titles! This is a shorter-than-usual one-shot before the next YT AU thing, which will probably be followed with angst.


Lance skidded to a stop, looking with terrified eyes across the dining hall towards the red paladin staring back at him.

Keith’s expression was stone cold, betraying no emotion.

Lance raised his shaking hands into the air, dropping his gun on the floor. Keith already had his own weapon aimed and ready.

“K-Keith,” Lance said, trying for a smile. “Please, put the gun down. You don’t have to do this. Let’s just talk it out!”

“There’s nothing to talk about Lance,” Keith’s finger moved to the trigger. “You know I have no choice.”

“But you do!” Lance pleaded, wringing his hands. “We’re a good team, remember? We should be working together! I… Keith, I love you!”

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